Until The Very End
by SparkledDreams
Summary: Impossibilities. Events that are not able to happen. It's a miracle when impossibilities become possible. It's been six weeks since the start of Harry's fifth year, where Umbridge has tortured him enough already. What happens when a very much alive James Potter appears at Sirius Black's door? Will Harry adapt to having his father around? And do certain events still take place?
1. Chapter One: Crucio

**Author's Note: **Yes. You're right. This is another James comes back. But it's hopefully more unique. I hope you enjoy. No flames, and I'd prefer **no reviews. **They put pressure on me to update. Only if you truly want to. Otherwise, no reviews please. Umm, think I covered it all. Yeah, bye. Oh wait, I also changed some things. Well, a lot, but nothing that changes the true plot.

* * *

**Until The Very End**

**Chapter One: Crucio**

* * *

Harry laughed as Ron shied away from Hermione's glare. "Ronald!" she screeched. "You have to study!" Ron rolled his blue eyes. "Why must you insist on all the boring things in life?" he groaned. Harry doubled over in laughter as Hermione hit him with a book.

Harry was now fifteen years old, in the beginning of his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He looked more like James, his father, than ever. His mop of dark brown hair fell into his bright emerald eyes constantly, and his facial features were identical to James'. Harry wasn't as tall as Ron, but was still lanky like his dad at the height of 5'7, and was still growing. His parents' deaths had always pained Harry more than anything else, and gaining their features hadn't helped at all.

"And you! You take my notes instead of making your own!" Harry jumped back as Hermione began to advance on him, her hazel eyes narrowing. Hermione was extraordinarily pretty, with sandy colored waves to almost her elbows, and copper eyes that seemed to pierce right through one's body. She was smaller than the boys, at 5'5, but had an unbelievable reign on the two troublemakers. The other occupants of the Gryffindor common room left, leaving the three teens alone

"Sorry, 'Mione. But you're so smart that I would only want your notes," Harry said, trying to soften his friend up. He gulped when he noticed that Hermione knew what he was doing. Uh oh. "Harry Pot-Harry," her stern voice turned into a sigh as she snatched his hand and held it gently. "You have to tell Professor Dumbledore, Harry."

Professor Dolores Umbridge had given Harry detention for saying that Voldemort was back, and illegally made him write, "I must not tell lies" with a Blood Quill. He'd been having detentions since the second week of school, and the scars bled constantly, a reminder that they would forever be inscribed on his hand.

Ron moved in now, nodding his head in agreement with Hermione. Harry yanked his hand away, a downcast expression falling over his face. "No. And you both swear on our lives that you won't tell _anyone, _and I mean anyone. I don't care if it's Sirius, Remus, or Neville! It doesn't matter! I have to go, I'm going to be late for detention," Harry said, his voice quieter. Hermione and Ron watched their best friend leave swiftly.

"He doesn't deserve any of this. If only the weight of the world wasn't on his shoulders," Ron murmured. "That toad-faced woman who calls herself a professor isn't helping," Hermione hissed under her breath, her sight going red at the thought of Umbridge. "Those scars are never going to go away. He's going to be 30 years old, and having a great time with his kids and whatever, and then see those scars and become depressed again. It'll ruin him!" Ron added angrily. The two continued to make comments on the mistreatment of the one person they cared about most, not noticing the purple flashes in the night sky.

* * *

"Mr. Potter, please take a seat," the toad-like woman dressed in pink said sweetly. Harry slammed the door, shuffling to the desk he knew all too well. "You're hideous," Harry snarled at her. Umbridge's eyes widened. "Why, Mr. Potter, I believe you might need some extra discipline, and I-"

"No, shut up. You're a Ministry worker who is against anything that Fudge disapproves of. But although Fudge disapproves of Blood Quills, you continue to use them on students. What would Fudge say if he saw this? You'd surely lose your jo-"

"Mr. Potter! From now on, your detentions will be from 5-8 until I believe that you have learned your lesson. Now, begin your lines, dear," Umbridge huffed, fluffing her short hair and standing behind him. Harry put his pen to the paper, and began to trace the phrase that was carved into the back of his hand. "You know Voldemort is back," Harry challenged, not beginning the lines.

"Harry Potter! Make your detentions until 9 PM!" she cried.

"The MInistry is trying too hard to hide it!"

"10:00 PM, Mr. Potter! Now do your lines!"

"It's true though!"

_"Crucio!" _

Harry buckled to the ground in agony, writhing on the ground. Umbridge stood above him, smiling. "You see, young Mr. Potter, it's best to respect the Ministry and learn to keep false opinions to yourself, hmm?" she said, tilting her head to one side. Harry looked up at her with pain-stricken eyes.

"He's back, and you kno-"

_"CRUCIO!" _

The night was spent with Harry's torture, both with the Blood Quill and the curse. At 10:05, he limped back to the Gryffindor common room, his injuries weighing him down. He finally collapsed on the ground of the corridor, rolling to the side. _Dumbledore…please…_

* * *

Harry awoke in the Gryffindor boys' dorm, Ron sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning against the post, sleeping lightly. Harry sat up slowly, causing Ron to jolt awake. "Harry! What happened? I found you last night in the corridor, all injured. Well, you're still hurt, but Hermione managed to heal the broken leg. The broken arm…not so much. Did Toadface…hurt you?" Ron lowered his voice, so as not to wake the other Gryffindor boys. With a roll of his eyes at his own stupidity, Ron put up Silencing Charms around Harry's bed.

"She…she tortured me, Ron," Harry whispered brokenly. Ron growled. "That bitch! I'll kill her! Harry…how many times?" Ron asked his best friend softly. Harry looked up at the taller boy. "Twelve." The word sent Ron into a rage. "Blood hell, Harry! I was going to say that if you truly wanted, we could keep this a secret, but Harry, that bitch has got to pay! We'll tell Dumble-"

"No."

"What?"

"No. No Ron. Please no. Just tell me what's wrong with me," Harry pleaded. Ron stared before giving into a sigh. "From what Hermione could tell, you have two broken ribs, your blood quill scars, your broken arm, a large bruise on your waist, and a sprained ankle."

"Hell, Quidditch is tomorrow! Against Slytherin, oh hell, Ron, what are we going to do?!" Harry wailed now, knowing Sirius and Remus would be there to watch, as always. He couldn't let them see his injuries. They'd freak out, but 100 times worse than Ron had. Ron's eyes bulged as he got Harry's point. The two Marauders thought of Harry as their own son, and would both barge into Umbridge's office and do who-knows-what to her.

"Listen, mate. We'll get you to Pomfrey, but we'll just say you fell off the moving staircases. The quill scars can be hid with an Illusion charm, though those don't last too long," Ron mused, trying to help Harry in any way possible. Harry nodded and with much assistance from the tall ginger, Harry and Ron made their way to the Hospital Wing.


	2. Chapter Two: James

**Author's Note: **Here comes James! Whooo, love James! He so cool! Okay, I'm done. Here ya go! BTW, the plot events of OotP are changed slightly, just 'cause I like it my way. SO yeah. SEE YAAA!

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**Until The Very End**

**Chapter Two: James**

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Sirius

Sirius Black hated hiding. Of course, knowing that his godson benefited from his hiding helped him to stay in place, but he knew that sometime or another, someone would find out where he was. He was an innocent man on the run, all because of a rash decision all those years ago. When his best friend and his best friend's wife had been murdered.

Sirius shuddered. He couldn't afford to remember that. It hurt too much. Way too much. Even after having thirteen years to accept the fact that they were _gone, _it never truly sank in until he was free.

But he had to be strong. For Remus. For the Order. And for Harry. Harry needed him, especially since he had such a heavy burden on his shoulders. He should be worrying about how to ask the girl he likes on a date, not how to kill the most powerful Dark Wizard of all time. Sirius smiled ruefully at that thought. Voldemort had no idea what was coming.

He sat alone on the steps of 12 Grimmauld Place as Padfoot. Mad-Eye hadn't approved, but to hell with Mad-Eye. Sirius knew that he would go berserk if he was kept in that dark hellhole 24/7.

Sirius watched the sky turn blue as the sun rose. He hadn't realized that the street was empty now, free of the small children riding bicycles down the street. Sirius got to all fours and looked around. He'd heard a pop.

The alleyway beside the house wasn't empty, he realized. A figure was crawling slowly from the other end towards him, as if he was in great pain. A tattered cloak covered his face from view, as Sirius strained to see the face of the person. The figure clutched a wand in his/her hand, so Sirius knew it was safer to deal with the wizard/witch if he was in his true form. Sirius transformed back into his human body, holding his own wand out in defense. The figure stopped twenty yards away from the dark-haired man, and Sirius felt a dent in his guard. What if the figure, which he knew now to be a man, needed medical help?

"Hello? What is your name?" Sirius asked, clearing his throat. The man laughed bitterly. "How about Failure? Or perhaps Worst Husband/Father Ever? Or, as some call me, _James Potter?" _

Sirius froze. No. No. NO. The voice. That familiar voice that he hadn't heard in sixteen years. No. This was an impostor, a trick to lure Sirius to Voldemort to get Harry to chase after him.

"No bastard, tell the truth. Who are you? James Potter's dead. He and his wife were killed in Godric's Hollow by Voldemort," Sirius growled at the impostor. The man who claimed to be James looked up.

"P-P-Padfoot?"

The word was so broken. So _agonized. _Sirius took a step back. Bloody hell, this guy was a great actor. "How do you know my nickname? Only the Marauders knew that." His voice was harsh. The man on the ground peeled the cloak away.

"Padfoot. Oh, Padfoot. It's me. James. Prongs. Oh, _Padfoot," _the man breathed. But Sirius could barely breathe. The formerly mischievous hazel eyes that he knew so well stared at him from the wizard's face. A mop of dark brown hair sat atop his head, and the glasses over the man's eyes were the same as ever. There was no way this couldn't be James. But Sirius had to check.

"Show me Prongs," Sirius demanded. James just nodded, and morphed into the strong stag he was known to be, and Sirius rushed at him. "Oh, James. OH my god, James, you're here!"

James stared at Sirius once he had changed back. Why did his best friend look older than him by 15 years? "Sirius? Why do you look like you're 35? We're only 20!" James exclaimed. Sirius frowned. Didn't James know what had happened? As a matter of fact, how did James get to be here? "James, I'll answer all your questions, but right now, we need to get you inside." He then muttered to himself, "I can't wait till Harry sees him."

James felt the biggest pain of all when he heard that. Harry was dead. Voldemort had killed him, before he'd had the chance to live. Before he could play Quidditch, or go to Hogwarts, or get his first wand, or before he could grow up as the fifth Marauder. A single tear fell from James's eye. He had failed his son. His only son. Harry had been his world, his reason for living, and now he was gone. Dead. Because James hadn't been there to protect him. Where had James been anyways? Did Voldemort Stun him before killing Lily and Harry?

Lily. The name kept the hole in his heart gaping. His precious flower, crushed and destroyed. All his fault.

Sirius frowned and half-carried his best friend into the house, pushing him onto a couch. "It's all right, James. I promise. It's going to be okay. Let me just call Moony, Albus, Mad-Eye, huh...maybe the entire Order should know...you'll be okay Prongs, I'll be right back." With that, Sirius was gone, leaving James to wonder what was going on.

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**Author's Note: **Sorry its so short! Barely had any time! Maybe next chapter will be up. Maybe.


	3. Chapter Three: Quidditch

**Author's Note: **This story is certainly going in the right direction, as even though I said that no one had to review if they didn't want to, two people did. Doesn't sound like much, but to a loner like me, it is. Okay, on with the story. Oh, and in this story, Harry was made captain of the Quidditch team in his fifth year instead of his sixth. Okay, NOW on with the story.

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**Until the Very End**

**Chapter Three: Quidditch **

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Harry

Harry groaned as Ron walked beside him to the Great Hall the next morning. Madame Pomfrey had been suspicious, but was soon convinced after a clueless Hermione had rushed in, caught on to their story, and backed them up. Harry's broken arm was put in a cast, but it was broken in the strangest way, and so she couldn't magically heal it. Otherwise, Harry was back to normal, except for the sore spots.

Hermione had fussed over him all night after being filled in on what happened. She would not leave him alone till Ginny arrived and after hearing the story, led the still fretting Hermione away.

Now, Harry sat with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville at the Gryffindor table. The QUidditch players and the few others had been told only that Harry was injured and to keep him safe. This had been Ron and Hermione's doing though, because Harry felt the idea was unnecessary.

"Harry, eat. You need the energy," Hermione commanded. Harry rolled his emerald eyes. "Okay, _Mom," _he joked, and Ron snorted. The team and their friends ate in comfortable silence.

"Potter," a dark voice said from behind Harry. Harry whirled around, feeling the eyes of the other Gryffindors on the man in front of him. Snape. "I wish you the _best of luck _today," Snape sneered. Harry returned the expression. "As do I."

* * *

After breakfast, Harry led the team onto the pitch, their brooms in hand. Harry clutched his Firebolt in his right hand, smiling at the thought of his two godfathers in the stands. "We'll win today Harry," Ron assured his friend. Harry nodded, and gave Ron a grateful look for all the support.

The crowd erupted in cheers as the Gryffindors walked onto the Quidditch pitch. The team took their places, and Harry flew up in the air to his designated spot. He swallowed, and scanned the opposing team for Malfoy. The blonde Slytherin caught his gaze and smirked. _"You're on, Potter," _he mouthed. Harry rolled his eyes. _"Bring it, Malfoy."_

The whistle screeched and the game was on! The Quaffles were released, as were the Bludgers. The Chasers darted away, and the Beaters tensed, waiting. Harry waited in the air, his eyes moving wildly, searching. That was when he saw it. The Snitch.

"10 points to Gryffindor!" Lee Jordan's voice distracted him as Malfoy dove for the small golden ball. Harry shook his head and pushed forward, his broken arm tucked against his chest.

"Another 10 points to Gryffindor! Johnson scores! Man, is that girl a player, I've told her so many times, and she still won't go out with me," Lee Jordan sighed. Lee then noticed that Harry Potter was holding his right arm to his chest in a protective way as he ducked for the Snitch. "Look at Potter! Why's he got his hand tucked away?"

Harry groaned. "Lee," he hissed. Why did he have to announce that to everyone? Just as Harry knew they would, the Slytherin team, and the Beaters especially, focused on his broken arm. Crabbe and Goyle, the Slytherin Beaters, grinned maliciously and as the two heavy Bludgers barreled towards them, they swung their bats, the Bludgers rebounding and hurdling towards Harry.

Harry pulled his body back as the Bludgers missed him by a hair. The Snitch was flitting close to the ground, so Harry dove down, Malfoy's shoulder bumping his. "Have fun, Potter," Malfoy growled, and shoved Harry, throwing him off course. Harry and his broom did a flip, but Harry regained balance and righted himself. "Oh, and Potter catches himself! Oh, another 10 points to GRYFFINDOR!" Lee declared.

Malfoy took advantage of Harry's position and reached for the Golden Snitch, only to lose balance and tumble. Harry watched him fall before zooming forward. The Snitch was darting in a circle above one section of the stands, and Harry put his broken arm out, forgetting its state as that was his Quidditch arm. Just as Harry's fingers began to close around the Golden Ball, a Bludger slammed into Harry's arm. Harry howled.

**"HARRY!" **

It was Hermione.

Harry began to fall. Down, down, down.

Harry landed on the hard ground and the crowds gasped. "Harry!" "Potter! Potter!" "Harry, oh, Harry!"

The boy glanced up to see the game still in session, but everyone's attention was on him. Harry picked himself up, and with a huge grin, held up the idle Snitch in his aching hand. He cringed, and Lee Jordan took note of this. "It seems that Harry's hand had been broken before the match, and was just injured even more. What a hero!"

Harry glared at Lee. "Really Lee? Must you announce _everything?" _he growled, gritting his teeth in agony, bent over a little. "Gryffindor wins!" Lee cried, almost sheepishly. The Gryffindors and their fans cheered loudly as the Slytherins sulked away. Hermione, Neville, and Hagrid met them on the field.

"Ye were great, 'Arry. Really, I don' know how ye did that, but it was 'mazing," Hagrid praised. Hermione hugged him tightly. "we need to get you to the hospital wing," she breathed. Ron slung an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Sheesh, Hermione, calm down. Harry still has to praise his favorite team mate still. I'm waiting, Potter," Ron joked. Harry laughed.

"Harry Potter."

THe crowd around the Seeker diminished as Sirius, Remus, and a man who was the uncanny identical look-alike of Harry himself stood there. Harry stared.

"…Dad?"

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**Author's Note: **Next chapter is that meeting that the Order has with James.


	4. Chapter Four: Loss of 16 Years

**Author's Note: **Dun dun dunnnnn. Here it is, the most boring chapter ever. But I have to force myself to write this. Damn, this is sooo boring. You're welcome, darlings.

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**Until The Very End**

**Chapter Four: Loss of 16 Years**

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James

Sirius had returned with a group of people James knew. But why were they so old? Remus lunged for him, embracing him. He didn't care that this James could be a fake. He knew his best friend was back, somehow.

Dumbledore, the man he had idolized for years, stepped up to him. "How can you be sure this is him?" he asked cautiously to Sirius. "He changed into his Animagus form," Sirius replied easily. The Order already knew that the Marauders had been Animagus. They had to believe him now.

"James? Do you remember what happened the night Voldemort came to your house in Godric's Hollow?" Dumbledore inquired gently, kneeling in front of James's chair. James gasped. Memories hit him like a sack of potatoes. Voldemort had killed him. He remembered the green flash slamming into his chest like a brick. "I was killed. And," James choked back a sob, "so were Lily and Harry. How am I here?"

Remus came forward again. "We don't know James. But you've missed out on a lot. Let's all sit down and Padfoot, Albus, and I can fill you in," Remus suggested. James eyed him. "How long has it been?"

Remus sighed. "Prongs, it's been fourteen years since you died." James exploded. "Fourteen years? Bloody hell, NO!" Remus placed a calm hand on his friend's shoulder. "We'll make this part quick so we can get to the important stuff," Sirius promised.

The Order settled around Sirius's living room. "Alright, I'll start from after that Halloween. After Peter's betrayal, I ran after him. He was on a street full of Muggles. I screamed at him for a while, before the coward blew up the street, cut off his finger, and turned into a rat. I, of course, laughed. I...Prongs, I was accused of betraying you to Voldemort and...and I was sent to Azkaban," Sirius began. James just stared. "I escaped three years ago. James...Prongs, I'm so sorry for suggesting to switch Secret Keepers, it was all my fault," Sirius said.

"Sirius Orion Black."

Sirius looked up at James. "It was never your fault. I'm so sorry you had to spend all this time in Azkaban for Peter's decision."

"This is all touching, but we have other matters to discuss," Moody snarled impatiently. James rolled his eyes. "Ever the sentimental one, Alastor," Remus replied dryly. Moody grunted.

"And James...you should know that you have a son," Sirius managed to say.

"W-What?"

"Harry is alive. See, after killing you and Lily, Voldemort sent a Killing Curse at him, but because LIly sacrificed herself for him, the curse rebounded, and caused Voldemort to vanish for thirteen years until he returned. Harry lived, and was sent to live with those horrible Dursleys. James, you have to know this. The Dursleys abused Harry. They kept him in a cupboard under the stairs for a decade, and rarely fed him. Vernon would beat him daily. But since Padfoot was in Azkaban, Harry had nowhere else to go, according to Albus," Remus explained ruefully, hating his lycanthropy more than ever.

James's eyes bulged. "My son's alive?! He's alive! Oh, Harry, you're alive! OH my son, my son, my Harry, he's alive!" He cried. Sirius and Remus watched in amusement as James cried with happiness. "But he was abused."

"My son was abused, because of the home you put him in?" James demanded, angry now. He advanced on Dumbledore, who calmly said, "It was for the best, James. Let us continue please."

"My son. What is he like? What does he look like? Does he play Quidditch? What house is he in? When can I see him?" James was hyper now. Harry was alive and well.

"Relax, Prongsie. We have more to tell you." And with that, the Order told James Potter everything there was to know about the famous Harry Potter.

* * *

James watched Harry in amazement. He had never seen anyone play Quidditch like that.

Sirius and Remus had, after telling James about Harry, brought him to the Ministry, where Fudge reluctantly declared Sirius free, as James was proof that Sirius was innocent. In addition, Sirius received over a million Galleons for compensation.

They had then informed James that Harry was captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and they would be attending the match tomorrow. "My son is Quidditch captain!" James exclaimed, pride radiating from the long dead man.

James was pulled out of his reverie when the announcer boomed, "Look at Potter! Why's he got his hand tucked away?"

James scanned the stadium for his son, and when his eyes fell on him, he gasped. Harry...there were no words for it. He was _beautiful. _And he looked exactly like his father. Like James. The same mop of dark, messy hair fell over his eyes. Lily's eyes. Emeralds that sparkled with wonder, love, and bravery. James then noticed Harry's right arm. He held it protectively against his chest, as if it was injured. James growled; whoever had hurt his precious son would die.

James was furious. Furious at Voldemort for taking away his Lily, for not allowing him to see his son grow up, not allowing him to stop all the misfortune that had befallen Harry, as he'd heard yesterday. But he was grateful to whoever gave him a second chance.

As the match progressed, James saw...was that Malfoy's son? Oh, yes. He'd heard Lucius and Narcissa had had a baby boy, Draco, a few months before they'd had Harry. James curled his lip in disgust. The blonde Slytherin was just like his father, from what he could tell.

Draco pushed Harry, and James hissed under his breath. He heard Sirius and Remus trying to calm him down, although they were angry too. "Sorry. I just get so protective when it comes to...Harry."

The Potter boy was almost directly above them, reaching for the fluttering Snitch. _Harry..._James watched as his son, who was now about fifteen, reach for the Golden SNitch...when a Bludger hit him in the arm that was apparently injured. "HARRY!" Sirius thundered. Harry tumbled downwards, and James cried out. "Harry!"

Harry slowly got up, and James sighed in relief. He held up the Snitch, as the announcer announced Harry's arm situation. Harry rolled his eyes and growled back, "Really Lee? Must you announce _everything?" _

James chuckled as Lee declared Gryffindor's victory, sheepish, and a group of people gathered around Harry. "C'mon, Prongs, time to go meet your son," Sirius said, leading James down to the pitch.

"Ye were great, 'Arry. Really, I don' know how ye did that, but it was 'mazing," Hagrid cheered. James smiled at that as they walked behind the half-giant, hidden from view. A pretty girl with blond-ish hair hugged him tightly. "We need to get you to the hospital wing," she breathed to his son. James nodded, he would make sure his son got to Madame Pomfrey. A red-haired boy, who James guessed was one of the Weasleys, slung an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Sheesh, Hermione, calm down. Harry still has to praise his favorite team mate still. I'm waiting, Potter," the Weasley joked. Harry laughed.

James spoke up. "Harry Potter."

The crowd moved away, so James could see his son up close, in the flesh.

"…Dad?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **I know. This chapter was rushed, short, and emotionless. I just hate writing boring chapters. Next one is even MORE boring, so wish me luck.


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